


She Waits

by Amira_Syfqh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, and he came home about 3 years later, and she's really pissed off, but she missed him so much that she just melts, if Chuck should have a girlfriend he left when he got The Man Upstairs inhibiting his body, reader-insert as well, so I was wondering, so don't judge little old virgin me :), this will be my first Chuck-smut, to protect her from the mad supernatural world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amira_Syfqh/pseuds/Amira_Syfqh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were Chuck Shurley's long-term girlfriend...until he left you and your life together without explanation. Now he's back, and he explains everything that has happened to him. </p><p>(this is my first ACTUAL smut so don't judge me please :) )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, well, as you might have known by now, I am a Chuck! girl...I absolutely adore Rob Benedict, and I'm Louden Swain trash as well...so, I, as the writer of this little one-shot, ask YOU, dear reader, to listen to She Waits by Louden Swain (duh) and maybe shed a tear or so because that song was my inspiration for writing this...
> 
> (oh, and by the way, there is some smut somewhere in there, so considered yourself warned)

The doorbell rang and you woke up from your slumber, your hand absently brushing past the empty spot next to you on the king-sized bed. You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and you groaned. "Who'd come visit at this godforsaken hour?" You grumbled, as you put on one of Chu- one of _your_ shirts and padded barefoot to answer the door. You switched on the porch-light, just to be on the safe side, in case you were about to let in an axe murderer, and you did a double take as your eyes registered something you remembered so vividly, yet you wished to forget. _No way_ , you thought, as your breath hitched. You knew that green jacket anywhere. You were the one that bought it for _him_.

Slowly and hesitantly, you opened the door of the house you used to share with the man you loved, and it was like a ghost from the past came back to haunt you. The familiar soft brown hair, stormy blue-green eyes that sometimes appeared grey in a certain light, and a nicely-trimmed beard, something you used to do for him, until he left. "Hi." came his uniquely _Chuck_ voice, and you wanted to fall apart and be swallowed by the floor. 

"You're not real." You said shakily, wanting to believe what was right in front of you, yet you wished he was just a dream. _I waited so long_ , you thought. _I was piecing my life back together from the aftermath, and you..._ You shut your eyes tightly, before opening them again, and he was still standing less than two feet away from you. You shook your head in denial. "You-You're just in my head, l-like when I thought I kept seeing you wherever I went, b-but..." You trailed off, slowly starting to process the fact that he was here. The one you prayed to God to bring back home. The one that built you up like a Lego house, only to knock you down when he left you without an explanation. The one you've waited for, and after all this time, you knew. He was a big bag of dicks, and you would gladly let him hurt you like he hurt you years ago because you loved him too much. _But did he ever love you?_

Still, anger boiled inside of you, burning your insides as all the pent-up rage twisted and turned inside of you, until it rose, and you lunged at him, pummeling your small balled-up fists against his surprisingly hardened chest, screaming profanities while tears streamed down your face, tears you never thought would come back out after years of pushing them back down. "You left without an explanation! Not a single note, a goodbye, anything!" You yelled. "And now you want to show up at ou- _my_ doorstep and act like the past years never happened?!" He looked as if he was about to speak, but you weren't finished. "I waited! I waited, and cried, and waited some more, and where were you?! I thought you were dead!" And suddenly, you melted into a puddle of sobbing goo as you wrapped your small arms around the man you loved, breathing in the scent you tried so hard to remember. You left teardrops on his white t-shirt burying your face into his chest. "I missed you so much." Your voice muffled against the soft material of his shirt, trying hard not to leave snot trails on him. The last thing he needed was a snotty t-shirt and a blubbering girlfriend...if that was what you still were to him. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"  

"I know, I was an ass for that, and I'd never forgive myself but..." Chuck tried to apologize, but you interrupted him. 

"Why?" You asked, a simple question that held a million answers, all of them possible, most of them dreaded. Was he cheating on you and he got fed up? Was he a secret agent and your life is in danger so the only way he could save you was to leave? There were many, many possible reasons to why he would do such a thing as leaving you to take care of the shambles of your life, but you nearly wanted to faint from the exhaustion of waiting. You were tired of waiting for him to come home, to at least call or send a text. In fact, you believed you could handle if he sent you a postcard from the Philippines and had signed it with his new wife or something.  

"I'm God." 

-

You knew Chuck was a Prophet of the Lord. He had told you that much, and you didn't really mind that he would sound off-the-rockers to other people, but not to you. You knew him. You knew he'd never say something as bold as that if it wasn't the truth. So when he told you that he had been lying to you, that he wasn't a Prophet, instead he was freakin' capital-G God, you were in good terms with his actual holiness. The only thing bugging you was that he hadn't answered your prayers to him _about_ him. 

Having moved to the living room, him sitting on his usual chair as if he never left it, you demanded that he explain what exactly did he mean by 'I'm God'. When he was done explaining, you leaned back in the couch, so many thoughts running through your head. "You've been God since we were...what, born?"

"Yeah no, it's complicated, I've been God longer than that, billions of years, but I was awakened in this vessel when we were...23 maybe?" His eyes glazed as he thought about his history as God.

"So I lost my virginity...t-to God?" You said, wanting to laugh hysterically. You've lost your virginity to God. You've given God a blowjob. You let God fuck you against the wall like some horny teenagers. You've sat yourself on top of God Himself and rode him like a freakin' horse! You felt your cheeks redden as years worth of intimacy with Chuck were replaced with the clarity tinged with horror when you realized that you've played a generous part in being God's girlfriend for the good part of 5 years, minus the whole 'leaving-you-behind-along-with-all-your-memories' going on. 

"I am so going to Hell for that." You mumbled. Chuck, being the sweet guy you always knew he was, grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently. You wanted to flinch at the intimacy, because hello, you're holding hands with an omnipresent celestial being! But you also reveled in the familiarity of it all, because no matter how godly your boyfriend became, no matter how much it hurt that he left you, you still missed the feeling you get when he holds your hand, when he makes you laugh so hard you'd snort in an unlady-like manner, when he takes care of you and reminds you of how beautiful you were because he cared...He was still the Chuck you came to know and love, and it didn't really matter that he left, because he was here now, and you've missed him so much, and you just- 

"I'm so sorry." Chuck said, and your attention went back to him, his blue-green eyes changing into stormy grey, which meant he was serious. "For everything. I shouldn't have left you alone without an explanation. I just...I was so scared. So much was happening in Heaven and it was impossible not to overhear all the horrible, horrible things going on up there. I didn't want to involve you in any of this. I didn't want you to get hurt." He said, his eyes downcast. 

And just like that, all the self-loathing, all the anger you've buried underneath a faked smile had disappeared. Instead, you felt ridiculously happy, as if you could do anything. Maybe you could ask him for something, like a million dollars, or travelling the world...

"I should make it up to you." Chuck said suddenly, as if he had read your mind. You secretly wondered if he did. "I admit, I've tapped into your emotions quite a few times these past few years, and you were in a bad place because of me, and I'd like to properly apologize for causing you so much pain." 

"Make it up to me...?" You didn't comprehend. _What could he possibly_ \- Your thoughts were silenced as he leaned forward and kissed you deeply, your mouth responding to the all-too-familiar taste of him that you've yearned for since that day. It amazed you how everything about the two of you remained the same, although so many things had happened in between him leaving you and him now kissing you. You pondered whether to tell him about your unborn baby, but you decided against it. 

You figured out you were pregnant with his child about a week after he left, which hardened the blow, because you knew deep down that you could never raise a child without him by your side. You felt almost relieved a few weeks later when blood seeped through your pants as you had a miscarriage, because that meant that no one would blame you for not being able to care for a child when there isn't a child to take care of. Still, you felt a pang of hurt whenever you walked past Chuck's old study, where you once imagined would have been your child's room, had everything gone the way you planned despite Chuck leaving. 

Chuck pulled away, gazing intently into your eyes. "You're distracted." He said bluntly, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Am I moving too fast, or-" His eyebrows creased, staring deeply into your eyes, as if probing through your very mind, sifting through your thoughts and memories. 

"Don't you dare use your godly powers on-" You started to say, but he leaned away, his face registered with shock, his mouth an O as he let out a small "oh" of unrecognizable emotion. _Oh no_ , you thought. _Why, why, why did you have to think of the baby?_ You scolded yourself internally in dismay. 

"You...you were pregnant." He said softly, barely audible. "I left you, and you were carrying my child, and..." He trailed off, looking at you with a strange, glazed look on his face. "You know, for God, I surely don't know a number of things." He let out a nervous laugh, running his fingers through his hair. Oh, how you missed when he did that. Even better when you'd twist his hair in your fingers as he- _Okay whoa, calm down_ , you thought to yourself. Or so you thought. 

Suddenly the two of you were crashing your lips together, your mouth occasionally brushing against the rough bristles of his beard, his hands on your waist, and your fingers in his hair. It was as if he'd never left, as the two of you moulded into each other, taking and giving, pouring out all the longing and pining the two of you had for each other. Now that you were together again, you could finally let loose. You could kiss him again with the burning passion of a thousand suns. He could easily suck on the soft spot just under your earlobe just to hear you moan as he sat himself on top of you. You could let your hands roam free all over his abdomen like you used to, except that he was built stronger now, and you felt strangely satisfied with all the muscle underneath your fingertips. He could slip his hands under your-no, _Chuck's_ t-shirt, as it had always been, and he could feel the hot, tingly skin of your stomach before ascending to your breasts, and you silently applauded yourself for being too lazy to wear a bra that night, but that applause quickly changed into a small whimper as he brushed the pad of his thumb across your nipple, his other hand slowly kneading your breast, and you could've sworn you felt him smile against your mouth. You were perfect together, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that could connect, or you being the fries to his cheeseburger, as he so fondly mentioned years ago. 

"Why are we still wearing clothes?" You groaned in irritation as you struggled to pull Chuck's shirt up over your head. You ended up getting stuck, and you snorted as both of you laughed at the silliness of it all. 

"You know, I could just zap us out of our clothes and into the bedroom..." Chuck offered, and you knew he was smirking as you couldn't exactly see through his grey shirt that was stubbornly crowning against your head. 

"But where's the fun in that?" You said, letting out a triumphant shout in delight as you discarded the shirt to the floor. Turning back to the love of your life, you were surprised to see him staring, a small smile playing on his lips. Admittedly, you loved it when he looked at you that way, all those years ago, when all you had was each other. It was his 'wow-my-girlfriend-is-cute-when-she's-being-a-dork' expression, and to be honest, you enjoyed being appreciated in that kind of way, to be gazed at with the same type of awe you'd look at the world from a higher point of view, or underwater with all the colourful fish the eye could see. Chuck made you feel beautiful, even when you didn't feel like it. 

You pulled Chuck's shirt over his head, succeeding in the first try before your lips met again. Suddenly, the surroundings around you changed from the steamy living room to the comfort of your bedroom. "Hey, that's cheati-" Your complaint was muffled by Chuck attacking your neck, sucking and biting, making sure he left a mark, like a wolf marking his territory. You began to ponder if you were ever not his, as he was always yours. You let out a small moan as Chuck guided you to lie down on your once-empty bed you shared with no one, him sliding your black boy-boxers down, before kissing your inner thighs. You squirmed at the ticklish-yet-arousing effect his lips had against you. You sternly told yourself to never ever kick him in the face when he does that, but oh _God_ , he was ama- hang on. 

"Hey this is gonna sound weird but is it cool if I say 'Oh my God' or is that uncomfortable for you?" You asked, lifting your head up from the pillow to glimpse at Chuck's reaction. Judging by the way he stopped kissing you completely, you bit your bottom lip, afraid that you might have offended him slightly. To your utmost surprise, he laughed. A full-on, body-quivering, belly laugh, one you have only ever seen when he was really really amused. He had only ever used it with you. He glanced at you from his position, his eyes filled with mirth. 

"I love you, you know that?" He said quietly, after his laughter died down. "I should've never left you."

"So why did you?" You asked, not exactly a question you had in mind when his face was inches away from where you needed him the most, but not exactly something you wanted to wait before asking either. "You knew I was cool with the whole Prophet of the Lord thing. Why wouldn't I be cool about this?"  

Moving so that he was directly on top of you with his face inches away from yours, he simply said, "I didn't want to lose you." and kissed you again, for about the 50th time that night, just before you felt him slide inside you. Immediately, your entire body tensed up, exhaling a puff of breath you didn't know you were holding, and he noticed it as he stopped. "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to talk anymore about _that_ in our current position, and you're beautiful and I just-"

"Don't lie to me, did you give yourself a few extra inches with your godly powers?" Relieved that you were okay with him -you were more than okay, you were pretty thrilled-, he began thrusting in and out of you, hitting your spot perfectly each time. Combining your moans of pleasure and his small groans as the two of you molded into one, him moving above you, you bucking your hips to make sure he fucks your brains out, because _fuck_ , he was mind-blowingly better than you remembered, and missing him, missing all of him, amplified your hormonal effect on yourself, and you loved it. You loved the feeling of being under someone, under _him_. You loved the fact that your name escapes his lips like a whisper, as if he was afraid someone else would hear. You loved the fact that he was amazing, and he was yours, and that you never really had to worry about losing him as he left because he was afraid of losing you. You loved the fact that you loved him, and that he loved you back.

Things started to become slightly worrying when he began to glow. Not like 'radiant-skin' or whatever crap those skin-care products keep feeding to unsuspecting customers. He was actually glowing, like an IKEA lamp, or a star, even. "Is that supposed to happen or...?" You never finished your sentence as you felt your walls closing in.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to get carried away, or I'll hurt you." Chuck said, slowing down.

"'Hurt me'? Honey, you've hurt me for 3 years, I think I can handle you _orgasming_." You sassed. "No matter how radiant you've become." Pleased with your answer, he rode out his blinding orgasm with you, you obligingly closing your eyes so he doesn't 'hurt you', and you were greatly satisfied with how delicious he had become.

Waiting for him was probably the best worst decision you've ever done.  


	2. *Alternate Storyline*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same story as before, but...not with the same outcome (e.g. make up sex and all)
> 
> *in Chuck's POV*
> 
> (hey so, if you've ever been suicidal, or close to someone who was suicidal, I urge you not to read this, because at some points during writing this, I have cried a bit, and I don't want to make you feel unsettled or anything)

His house.

No, _their_ house.

He met her when he was 16, after the whole fiasco with Mary, who got pregnant and panicked, denying ever actually having sex with him in the first place. Admittedly, it scared Chuck too, because he wore a damn condom and condoms don't normally break, but eventually he accepted the fact that maybe he just wasn't that careful. He was afraid that she'd hear the rumours about him and judge him for being the kind of guy he was; lonesome, awkward, and bad in bed enough to be denied even the recognition of actually getting into Mary's very tight pants. She heard the rumours, yes, but she didn't care. He was sweet, in her opinion, and she was like the most beautiful thing in the world to him. No, in the universe, really. He traveled the world, seen many beautiful men and women, set foot on many breathtaking landmarks, but nothing ever really compared to _her_.

She wasn't the kind of beautiful that made heads turn at a bar, or a party. She didn't have the biggest boobs or the roundest ass. Her hair was on a good day, was wavy and tumbled in pronounced waves, but she also looked badass in a simple ponytail. She was beautiful in her own way, and he was secretly glad to be the only one who noticed, because then he wouldn't have to have her taken from him. So why did he leave the one person he truly loved, and the one person who loved him back?

Sucking in a deep breath, Chuck knocked on the mahogany door, the stained glass glinting in the sunlight. It was one of his expertise, making stained glass. Secretly, Chuck wondered if that was why Mary (the fake-virgin) took interest in him all those years ago. She loved stained glass windows, it's true, as he had seen her stare at the art that is stained glass, the material used in many churches, including the local one. But he supposed Mary loved herself more than anything else.

When no one answered, Chuck took out the spare key from the potted plant, silently applauding her for keeping it in the same place, after all these years. He unlocked the door, and stepped inside, taking note that nothing really changed since he left. The blinds were still closed, giving off a dark ambiance to the house, papers were strewn everywhere, and yet it looked a lot less tidier as well. He wondered if she ever thought of tidying things up like she did when she was with him. "(Y/N)?" Chuck called out, a little worried now. She never leaves the house as untidy as this. She's the one who got him off his ass to clean up after himself! There's no way a girl like that could turn into someone even less neater than him.

Confirming the fact that the entire floor was empty, Chuck moved upstairs, trying to make sense of it all. Where is she? She changed her mobile number so there wasn't any way he could've contacted her, in case she left, but then again, the car and her purple motorcycle that she loved so much was still parked in the garage. _Maybe she's asleep?_ Chuck thought feebly, as he pushed the door to the master bedroom, the door creaking slightly, as if he was in a frickin' horror movie.

Immediately Chuck felt like he actually _was_ in a horror movie. Taking a few steps back, he covered his mouth with his hand, his heart racing noticeably fast. "No no no nonononono!" Chuck said, braving himself to approach the bed, where (Y/N) lay. Her face was calm and expressionless, her legs folded, as if she had been hugging her knees a lot. _She does that when she sleeps_ , Chuck reassured himself. _She's just sleeping, she'll wake up any minute now..._

But deep down Chuck knew nobody slept with an emptied bottle of sleeping pills. Not unless they never wanted to wake up. With a pang he realized that the familiar orange container belonged to him. Sometimes, when his work was consuming him, (Y/N) would hand him his sleeping pills, putting him to sleep, and he'd wake up hours later with her curled up against him, and he'd pull her closer, and there they'd lay together. She said it was scary that he'd have this aggressively tired look on his face, and when she'd try to kiss him, he'd grunt like a pig and move away. He knew that wasn't true, because he _never_ grunts, but he also knew that she had a point. He was scary when he's tired.

Gently, he cradled the limp body of the love of his life, and cried. "I should've been here." He sobbed. "I should never have left." (Y/N) was a fragile girl, no matter how tough she acted, or how sassy she spoke. Underneath all those layers of snark, lay a little girl who just wanted to be loved. For a while, Chuck had given her just that. He gave her love, support, security, comfort, friendship...and then he had to mess that up by leaving. He hated himself for that. "Babe, I know that if you're here right now, you'd punch me in the face, as hard as you hit Justin when we were 16." Chuck said, letting out a hollow chuckle, which reverberated through the room. "I'd rather you punch me in the face a thousand times before finding your cold, lifeless body here."

"I know it's my fault. I've been the one looking out for you, making sure you ate, always checking on you. I kept a very close eye on you throughout the years, and making sure that I was the best damn thing I could ever offer you, because you're the best fucking thing I ever had. I know I left, and I know you felt abandoned. But I swear, I'll give you the best part of Heaven." He said, tears sliding down his cheeks. "Since I couldn't give you happiness on Earth."

With a snap of his fingers, Chuck ascended to Heaven for the first time in a long time to reunite with his best girl.   


End file.
